The Mistake of Her Life
by Sherlia
Summary: At the final moments of one's life, what does one think about? Annabeth thinks of Percy, of course.


Grey eyes stare at the dusty old cupboard. Slowly, gingerly, she pulls it open, her gnarled, wrinkled hands still as strong as ever. She takes out her most prized possession, taking the utmost care not to damage it. Her Yankees baseball cap. Although the cap's magic is long gone, she loves it, even though it's cursed by Poseidon himself.

The ground below her chair shakes a bit, and thunder rumbles. She smiles, an old, familiar smile she hasn't smiled in ages. Not since Athena called her up to Olympus that many years ago. Poseidon is probably displeased and Athena doesn't like the subtle threat he's making.

The ground shakes more violently, and she can hear people screaming outside, yelling for family and friends to 'duck under the table or whatever OMG there's a freaking earthquake'. She frowns slightly. The mortals still use 'OMG'? With the s, of course.

Anyway, it doesn't matter, she decides as she sinks into the chair. At the final moments of one's life, one does not worry about what new expressions people use. Poseidon still holds a grudge. The ground shakes again, starting to cause harm. People scream and duck. Annabeth doesn't care. He could kill her for all she cared.

A bright flash appears in the empty room—Annabeth closes her eyes, she had expected it. Athena appears, looking as perfect and as stern as she had been the first time Annabeth saw her. "Mother…what do you want?" Annabeth says, her eyes closed. She is tired.

"Annabeth—", Athena steps closer to her, "You live here?" She asks, scrunching her nose up in disgust as she steps across the dusty floor.

Annabeth opens her eyes. "I don't. This is where He—" she winces, it is still hard to say his name, "Used to live."

If Athena notices the way Annabeth's voice hitches—of course she does—she doesn't say anything. Annabeth closes her eyes. "I am tired, Mother. Say what you must."

Athena steps closer and frowns, like what she's about to say pains her. "Do you still love him?"

She knows without asking who Athena was referring to. "Of course I do, Mother. I loved him more than life itself. I would die for him. I almost have."

Another bright flash appears. Eyes closed, Annabeth breathes in the smell of the sea. "Why didn't you, then?" This voice is richer, deeper.

Athena gasps. "Are you suggesting that my daughter should have died instead of that sea spawn?"

She can almost hear Poseidon's fists clench. "He's not a sea spawn! He is my son, and you will treat him with respect."

"He was a sea spawn! He's dead! And that's all he'll ever be, Barnacle Beard! He may have retrieved the lightning bolt, sailed the sea of monsters,—"

Poseidon opens his mouth to say something, but stops when he hears Annabeth speak.

"He fell into Tartarus for me."

Poseidon and Athena stop at the same moment. It would have almost been comical, sworn enemies stopping at the exact same moment, and she is pretty sure Aphrodite was squealing and saying "Pothena!" up on Olympus.

But the situation isn't funny at all. She repeats, "He fell into Tartarus for me. He loved me. But I let him go. I broke up with him. And it was my fault. Will always be. But that doesn't change the fact that I am going to die, and there are two gods arguing about my dead ex in the middle of my dead ex's family's room, so can you two leave me alone for a while so I can die in peace?"

Their mouths are open. Annabeth adds, "After that you can go back to arguing."

Athena looks enraged. She is an Olympian, and she will not be spoken to that way!

But Poseidon chuckles, his eyes softening, and tells her, "The old you is coming back. The person you used to be with Percy. I can see the girl Percy," she winces, as always, "fell in love with now."

"I don't deserve him. I never did."

Poseidon bends down in front of her. "You do." He says earnestly. "You do. You are perhaps the most deserving of Percy Athena spawn I have ever met and will."

Athena glowers. "Don't call her my spawn! She was the brightest child I had! Plus, the way you phrased the sentence was wrong! Can't you do anything right?"

But Annabeth smiles. She knows that 'Athena spawn' was said to anger Athena, and wasn't an insult to her. And most deserving of Percy? That was the best title anyone could give her. Better than "Official Architect Of Olympus". Way better.

Poseidon ignores Athena and pats her shoulder. "I will be sorry to see you gone."

Annabeth smiles. "I'm not. But thanks."

He smiles once more in farewell, grabs Athena and disappears.

Annabeth sighs, sitting back and grabbing her baseball cap. She puts it on, relishing the familiar fabric against her head once more, It's been so long since she allowed herself to put on this cap, to relieve the bittersweet memories that came with it.

Percy… Those high cheekbones, messy mop of ebony black hair. Those gorgeous sea green eyes that were always full of mischief and humor. His pink lips, how those would press softly against hers, how he smelled like the sea. She inhales the faint scent of the sea left in the room. That was how Percy used to smell like.

She wished she could reverse time. Didn't everyone? To save herself from making the mistake of her life—walking into Athena's palace.

"It seems like so long ago, the day I dumped Percy." She mutters to herself, sighing. Cue bright flash. What is it with gods and her today?

She smells perfume. "Aphrodite," She says, opening her eyes. "What a surprise." It is. She doesn't get why Aphrodite's here. "Why are you visiting me? Don't you have enough love lives to mess up and ruin, just like Percy's and mine?" Her voice cracks at the end, and she cringes.

Aphrodite's sea green eyes—so familiar, so painful,—flash angrily. But she doesn't scold or turn Annabeth into a love-struck fool obsessed with a bear or something like that. Oh gods—she is thinking like Percy.

She finds comfort in the fact that she thinks like Percy, though.

"This was never meant to happen," Aphrodite says sadly, turning around in the dusty old room, not even complaining about the dirty floor, to Annabeth's surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"You two were perfect. You were supposed to have a long, happy marriage. No. This isn't right." Aphrodite turns to her, and says sympathetically, "But you lost it all when you took Athena's advice." Annabeth exhales, a loud, long sigh. "I warned you."

Annabeth hangs her head.

"You didn't listen. You knew Athena disapproved, but you let her. You let her break you two up. You lost your perfect future." She waves her hand, and Annabeth sees visions of a wedding. 'I do!" Annabeth hardly recognizes her voice, it is alight with joy.

The scene changes. Annabeth sees an older, aged version of herself, cradling a small bundle, cooing at it while Percy wraps an arm around her waist and they both smile. It is the happiest she has seen herself in so long.

They are old now. Sitting in identical chairs, they hold each other's hands and profess their love for one another in cracked voices.

The scene disappears.

Annabeth looks up at Aphrodite. "This was my future?"

"It was," Aphrodite confirms, giving her a sad smile.

Annabeth sits back, closes her eyes and says, "I see what he meant."

Aphrodite cocks her head to one side in a silent question, lustrous black hair spilling down her shoulder. Annabeth explains,"You aren't as shallow as I thought you were. Percy," she flinches, like always, "Thought differently."

"That boy," Aphrodite mutters, "Can see what generations and generations of heroes missed."

She pauses. "He sees past our facades."

"Every fake act we put on, he sees through it like it is nothing. Apollo isn't a womanizer. He goes out, drinks, get drunk, gets laid, cause he needs something to distract him from the pain. He sees the future. He can tell when one of his children is going to die. It pains him, but he can only watch. That's all we ever do. Watch from the sidelines, act as if we don't care. But we do care. We care for them more than they see."

Annabeth smiles again. "He saw more than you all knew. He sees through Artemis's façade. She can love a man, she doesn't hate them with all her might, like you all thought, but she took the oath. Why? Because she was scared of getting hurt. She doesn't want anything to happen to the men she loves, or has loved before. She promises herself she won't ever get involved again, because she knows ill fate will befall those she loved. She can love. She just doesn't want to get hurt again."

Aphrodite regards her with an unreadable look. "He told you that?"

"Yes, he did. I never thought of it in that way before until he told me."

"He's special. There will never be someone else like him again." Aphrodite stops. Annabeth hangs her head. She knows what Aphrodite is going to say. "Why, pray tell, did you let him go then?"

"Athena convinced me." She says, ashamed. "She told me he was a distraction from my work. She chose the right time to say that. I was late on the reconstruction of a temple cause he was distracting me. 'A distraction. A hindrance,' she had said. I believed her." She gulps. "When I walked out of her palace—you all live like kings and queens now, don't you?—I left with the intention to dump him."

Aphrodite stares at her. "I see," is all she says. "Well, I best get going. Ares will be wondering where I've gone off to." She says, reverting back to her normal self as if their conversation had never happened. "Besides, I do have mortal men to pick up, you know?" She giggles, and a bright light flashes. Just before she leaves, however, she says with seriousness, "He saw through mine as well. Goodbye, Annabeth Chase."

"Percy, you astound us all." She sighs.

Annabeth knows she only has minutes left. She thinks of the day Percy died. The day she packed her bags, moved out of their shared apartment into San Francisco. She finally gathered her courage to Iris-Message him a year later. She was greeted with the news that he had died fending off a hellhound from a new camper the day she had moved out. And she wishes she was there with him. She realizes how much she needs him. How it is impossible for her to live in a world without him. She tries to kill herself. Thalia takes a rare break off from the hunters and sees her attempting to slit her wrists. She stops her.

She had cried and sobbed, throwing herself against Thalia. Thalia had whispered sweet nothings into her ear, about how everything would be fine, but Annabeth doesn't believe her. Never did. Cause everything stopped being fine the day she walked away from Percy, pretending she doesn't hear the 'drip, drip' sound of his tears splashing against the floor.

Annabeth could feel her life ebbing away. She closes her eyes for the last time, closing that stormy , intimidating gray eyes to the world. She breathes in her last breath, certain that she could smell Percy in the room. She fills her mind with thoughts of Percy—and she exhales one last time.

Then all is silent in the room.


End file.
